Broken Series: Oneshots
by realmsoffreedom
Summary: A series of oneshots set in the Broken universe. Requests are open.
1. Chapter 1

**Alright, so this is going to be a series of unrelated oneshots set in the Broken universe. They can be from any of the three stories, any scene, any characters, etc. You guys have free reign in these requests, take advantage of it. Warning - these are definitely going to contain spoilers from all three stories, so I wouldn't read this if you're not up to date in those. Anyway, this first request was to do the scene where Riker tries to kill himself. I believe they said to do the aftermath, but the aftermath was written in the story, so I'm gonna assume they meant to write the suicide scene from Riker's perspective? If not, let me know, and I'll do this request again. Anyway - heavy trigger warning for suicide, depression, anxiety, and self-harm. Please be careful, this is extremely triggering.**

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This has been a long time coming.

The thing about suicide is that it creeps up on you. The desire for death sneaks up on you like a wild animal stalking its prey. You don't think much of it, until you're standing in front of a busy road, wishing to be hit by a car, or looking at a bottle of pills like it's the answer to everything. You don't realize you're suicidal until you realize how fucked up you are.

Maybe that explains why I'm here, sitting against the bathroom wall, with my blade poised over my wrist, just thinking. It's harder when you're thinking about killing yourself. Making the decision to cut isn't as big of a deal. It's not a life or death decision. The first time I ever cut myself, I did it so shallowly. It was a mere scratch that barely bled. Contemplating that is nothing compared to contemplating whether I really want to go through with a plan that won't allow me to be here tomorrow.

I know the risks. I know how high of a chance there is that it won't work. It'd be much easier to just swallow pills or jump off something, but Ryland killed himself by jumping off the roof of our house, after swallowing an entire bottle of pills. And Rocky tried to just do the former, which didn't work. I don't want to try either method – it's almost like they're tainted because of what my brothers have tried to do. I know Ratliff tried slitting his wrists too, but he said afterwards that it was completely impulsive. He didn't go deep enough to kill himself. I'm going to do it right.

That is, if my conscience will fucking let me. This is why I hate attaching myself to people. It always gets in the way of things like this. Every time I've been this close to doing it, a thought of my siblings ruins my plan. I'm sick of feeling guilty for wanting to end my pain. It's been so fucking long, and I've tried to wait it out, but it's evident that nothing is going to get better. They say it takes time, but time has passed, and nothing has happened. So I'm chalking them up to be fucking liars.

"Fucking coward, just fucking do it already." Talking to myself isn't as weird when I've stopped caring. Nothing will matter anymore, not after I'm dead. Besides, the entire house is asleep. We stayed up so late playing pool – I'm definitely alone at the moment, and thank god for that. This is the perfect moment for something like this, and if it were to get ruined by someone waking up because they have to pee, I'd be so fucking done.

My mind is racing, almost as fast as my thundering heart. The combination is heinous. The problem with having depression _and_ anxiety, is that depression makes me not want to care about anything, but anxiety makes me care too much about everything. Having both is a recipe for disaster. And I'm done with the chaotic disaster my life has turned into. It's just obstacle after obstacle, fix one thing, the next thing fucks up. My life is just a vicious cycle of fuck ups and relapses and it needs to fucking end.

A part of me just wants to get up and slip back into bed with Rydel, but I can't back out now. Not when I've already gotten this far. I'd hate myself even more if I gave up now. Stupid fucking wimp, can't even kill himself without his anxiety turning it into something way bigger than it actually is. I've wanted this for so long, and I'm sure I'll want it the second I leave this bathroom. I'll regret not doing it, and hate myself for backing out yet _again_. It's happened so many times, and I am not letting it happen again.

"God, just fucking stop. You want to die. And if you fucking wimp out again like a goddamn coward, you're gonna hate yourself even more. Just fucking get it over with." I'm saying one thing and believing another, and it's so frustrating.

This is it. There's no backing out now. I'm finally going to do it. And to be honest, it feels so fucking good.

I sink the blade into the skin right under my wrist, and drag it straight down, biting down on my lip to keep from screaming in pain. My arms are destroyed from all the cutting, so cutting straight down is basically reopening a shitton of old scars and making the entire thing even more painful than it'd normally be.

But I guess the insurmountable agony I'm in right now is a small price to pay for the huge reward I'm getting in return.

So I'll take it.

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 **Thoughts? As I've said numerous times, feel free to request scenes. Tell me exactly what you want, and I'll try my best to deliver. Leave your requests in reviews, or message me on tumblr (theghostofashton). Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I've been really bad with updating this, I'm sorry. This isn't a request, this is actually a scene I had saved for Recovery, but decided to cut at the last second. It's set after Riker tries to kill himself, before they learn that he's in a coma and after Austin and Dez's talk. Trigger warnings for depression, suicide, and self-harm. Enjoy.**

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What I'm not prepared for is to see Austin start running across the grass, not going very fast, but running all the same. He's nowhere near a sprint, but he's definitely far from walking. Cold fear washes over me. He's still recovering from a knee injury, and he hasn't gotten the okay to run on that foot. Walking's been pretty painful for him recently. He could do some serious damage to his knee…

"Austin, fuck," Ratliff mutters. I tear myself out of my thoughts, and my eyes widen. He fell. Of course he did; his knee isn't nearly strong enough to support him. It probably buckled under him and that has _got_ to be painful.

"Go to him!" I order. "I'll catch up."

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I knew I shouldn't have tried that.

But I honestly didn't care about my knee. I wanted to try and run, maybe then I could start going running on a daily basis, but that's obviously not going to happen. It sucks. I'm not the most athletic person around, but I love running and I love playing basketball, both of which are difficult after having knee surgery. I know it was the best decision, in the long run, but I hate the recovery time. I hate feeling restricted.

"Aus!" Ratliff reaches me first, Dez close behind. "Are you okay?"

"My knee," I mutter. "Help me up? I think I just aggravated it a bit. I'm alright."

Ratliff looks hesitant, as he grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet. I stand with all my weight on my good leg first, and then slowly lower my injured leg to the ground.

And that's a mistake.

White-hot pain sears up my leg, not nearly as bad as when I fell, but enough to send me sprawling to the ground with my eyes squeezed shut. It hurts, a lot. Not as much as before, but god, it fucking kills. The pain is almost dizzying.

"Shit, love," Ratliff mutters, dropping down beside me. He lifts my chin and forces me to look at him, eyes wide with concern and laced with pain. "I think you did something to it…"

"God, is he okay?" Dez asks worriedly.

"I don't know," Ratliff replies, turning his attention back to me. "I think we should have you checked out- make sure you didn't do any more damage…god, what were you thinking, Aus?"

"I wanted to run away. I wanted it to hurt. I'm so used to pain being used as relief…it was a default. And with everything with Riker…I just… I didn't know what to do. I don't know what to do." I reply.

"Aus…" Ratliff sighs. "We'll talk about that later. We need to get you inside."

"Help me up," I grunt, gritting my teeth and trying to breathe. It hurts a lot and I can feel my knee starting to swell up. It's probably just irritated, I need to get it up and iced, but I don't think that'll be happening anytime soon. There's no way I'm going home when Riker's in the hospital and I don't even know what his status is.

"Don't bother." Rocky stops in front of us and lifts me into his arms. "There's no way in hell you're walking on it now."

"I'm fine," I mutter in exasperation. "You don't need to baby me."

"No, I don't need to," Rocky replies. "But you're my little brother and I _do_ need to take care of you, so that's what I'm doing."

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"Nothing's broken or torn or out of place. You probably just exacerbated it a bit. Keep it elevated and iced, on for fifteen, off for twenty."

I cross my arms over my chest and roll my eyes as the doctor rolls down the leg of my sweatpants. "Could've told you that myself."

Rocky shoots me a look. "We just wanted to make sure he was okay. Thank you for doing this."

"No problem, Rocky," the doctor replies. "I'll get you guys an update on Riker's condition as soon as I can, alright? For now, if you guys want to hang out here and let Austin ice his knee, that's okay with me."

"That'd be amazing," Rydel says. "Could you have a nurse bring us some ice?"

"I'll have someone bring some down," the doctor replies. "And guys? Try not to worry yourselves too much over your brother. He'll be fine." She shoots us a reassuring smile, before turning and walking out the door.

"She can say that," I mutter, glancing down at my knee. "She can say that because she's not the one in a hospital wondering if her brother is going to live or die."

"Aus…"

"I don't wanna do this anymore." There's a lump in my throat and my vision is starting to blur. "I'm so tired."

"Baby," Rocky sighs, stepping over and pulling me into a hug. "I know. It's a lot. And it sucks. But we're gonna get through this. Riker's gonna be okay and we're gonna get through this. It's going to be alright, I promise."

"I don't understand this," Dez says. "I don't understand how Riker could slit his wrist the way he did. Didn't it _hurt_? Or how Austin ran, _knowing_ it'd hurt his knee and cause him a ton more pain? I don't fucking get it."

"That's self-harm," Rydel says softly. "And you don't get it until you're doing it. _I_ don't get it. It bothers me, more than bothers me, that my brothers all do it. It sucks. But that's their release. Physical pain overwhelms mental pain and it just makes things easier. At least…that's what I've picked up over the years, listening to them talk about it."

"Exactly," Ratliff replies. "I get why Austin did what he did. I don't like it. But I get it."

"I just want to feel pain," I tell them. "I just…I just need it. And it's stupid and addicting but I don't know how to handle things any other way. This is my default in crisis. It's what I go to when things go wrong. And it's how I'll kill myself if Riker dies."

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 **Thoughts? As I've said before, please leave me more requests! I'll try to expand a few more deleted scenes I have stored, but I'm relying on requests for this story. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed.**


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